


Fever Dreams

by bone_orchard



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Not Skaters, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Frottage, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Manual Knot Stimulation, Marathon Sex, Mating Cycles, Mentions of Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Rutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-13 21:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bone_orchard/pseuds/bone_orchard
Summary: Viktor has been lusting after his flatmate for the better part of two years. When an unexpected complication leaves Yuuri without anyone to turn to in his time of need, Viktor is quick to volunteer.Taking advantage of biology is not how he expected their first time to go, but Yuuri is beautiful and Viktor’s too covetous to wait for romance.They will have one glorious week together. After that, anything can happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [incarnadyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/incarnadyne/gifts).



> This will be a sex-heavy fic. Please enjoy.

“You reek.”

Yuuri raises startled brown eyes to Viktor, too caught off guard to hide the hurt in them. Viktor hurries to explain himself.

“No, not like _that_ , Yuuri. It’s your rut. Well, pre-rut. Hormones everywhere.”

It isn’t anything Yuuri doesn’t know. He’s twenty-four and must have had his fair share of ruts, certainly enough to know when one is coming. Besides, the symptoms – erratic temperature, heightened appetite, and increased sensitivity – are far from subtle. But it’s the best way Viktor can think of to start this conversation.

Yuuri relaxes a fraction but keeps staring at Viktor with eyes wide and doe-like, the same expression he sports whenever he’s surprised or nervous. It does _things_ to Viktor, even now, though nearly two years of cohabitation should have eradicated his hopeless little crush.

“You’re usually gone by this time,” Viktor adds softly, trying to best to dispel any awkwardness. These aren’t things to hide or be ashamed about, but Yuuri is an intensely private person. It took Viktor six months of living with him before he even learned the names of his family members.

“Ah,” Yuuri breathes, looking down at his nearly finished dinner. “There’s, um, a complication. My rut partners won’t be…available for a while.”

Viktor blinks.

Rut partners – or heat partners if the subject is an omega – are important parts of the debilitating week-long cycles that occur once every three months or so. Viktor’s own passed last month, spent as always with Chris whose own heats tended to align with Viktor’s ruts. He doesn’t know much of Yuuri’s, except that he always vanishes a couple of days into pre-heat and returns over a week later with the look of a man well-fucked. Knowing all too well how reticent Yuuri is and how swiftly he bristles if his boundaries are pushed, Viktor has always kept his curiosity to himself.

He never thought Yuuri would be the kind to rely on the establishments that provide provisions, namely volunteers, to those who couldn’t find heat or rut partners among their friends or acquaintances. Viktor’s used them several times, mostly in the early years of his ruts and later when he and Chris were too far to help each other out. They had a cold efficiency to them that he found pleasing, but he can’t imagine Yuuri frequenting one. It’s presumptuous given that they really aren’t that close, but despite the distance Yuuri works to keep between them, Viktor likes to think that he knows Yuuri well enough.

And now, with Yuuri mentioning rut partners, it sounds as if his assumption was right.

“What do you intend to do then?” Viktor asks cautiously, his interest in his own food gone though he moves a piece of pork with his fork to maintain the illusion.

“Suffer,” Yuuri pronounces calmly.

“What?”

Yuuri shrugs, irritation flitting across his face. Viktor’s fairly sure that it’s not aimed at him.

“I don’t like going to the centers. I don’t have anything against them, but I’m personally not comfortable.”

“Lots of people don’t like sharing their cycle with strangers,” Viktor says casually, suppressing a little thrill at being _right_.

“No, that’s not really it,” Yuuri says. “I’m fine with the sex itself, it’s everything else. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to them, and I don’t know anyone unattached who could help me out.”

Viktor frowns, incredulity blooming.

“Wait, what are you saying? You can’t spend your rut by yourself!”

Yuuri’s mouth sets into a familiar, stubborn line that practically screams ‘Watch me!’

“There’s no other choice,” he says curtly. “I’ve stockpiled on food and water, and the room’s soundproof. I won’t bother you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not,” Viktor returns, equally cold before he makes himself soften, the edges of his smile kinder when he reaches across the table to touch Yuuri’s hand. It twitches like he wants to pull away, but he stays put while Viktor gently covers it with his own. “You know, it’s not true that you don’t know anyone who can’t help you.”

Yuuri’s head jerks up, confusion furrowing his face when he meets Viktor’s gaze. He waits for some hint of realization to dawn before speaking.

“There’s me,” Viktor offers. “I’m unattached. And I’m willing.”

Yuuri’s mouth parts, nothing but a faint gasp coming forth.

“You can’t spend your rut alone, Yuuri,” Viktor tells him, voice low and persuasive but not forceful. “I’ve tried it once. It was torture, the most miserable week of my life. You’re my friend. I can’t let you go through that.”

“I – you,” Yuuri starts, seemingly at a loss for words. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” Viktor says, smiling brightly. “You’re an attractive alpha. I’d love to help you out.”

It’s _delightful_ , the pretty blush that spreads across Yuuri’s face. Viktor aches to trace its path with his tongue and bite into one plump cheek.

“Have you…been with alphas before?” Yuuri asks him, and there’s wariness in every inch of him but Viktor doesn’t miss the hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“A couple of times,” Viktor answers easily. “Never during a rut, just hook-ups. You?”

Yuuri’s quiet for a moment, and Viktor thinks that he might not answer but then he does, his words soft and oddly fond.

“Yes. My usual rut partners, they’re – well, they’re a mated pair. An alpha and an omega. We’ve spent our cycles together since my first one – I was sixteen. They’re a year older than me. And it’s been working well, but now Takeshi is pregnant. He and Yuuko found out two weeks ago. So, yeah, the usual arrangement isn’t feasible for the next few years.”

Viktor reels a little at the flood of information. It’s quite succinct, but it’s the most Yuuri has volunteered of himself except when it comes to his family dog. Viktor thinks he can be excused for the frisson of excitement that shivers through him.

And then he calms down and focuses on what Yuuri actually said. Mated pairs allowing a third into their bed is rare enough, and often ends up in a three-way bond, though it’s clear that Yuuri had quite a comfortable arrangement sans the bonding. But bringing children into the picture changes things drastically. Mates always get extremely territorial over each other when one is carrying, and after the birth, a wholly different kind of protectiveness followed.

No matter what, Yuuri won’t to be able to return to his friends’ bed until the kid is at least old enough to walk and talk.

“You weren’t planning to spend all your ruts in that time alone, were you?” Viktor asks, wincing at the thought. Even Yuuri pales, shaking his head.

“No, no, of course not. I thought I’d figure it out after seeing how this one goes.”

“Well you won’t have to,” Viktor says firmly. “I’ll be with you. If you let me.”

Yuuri’s eyes bore into Viktor’s, wide and uncertain as they search his face for some unknown meaning. In the end though, a soft smile curls Yuuri’s lips and he nods, turning his hand to slot his fingers into Viktor’s.

“Thank you,” he says, heartfelt. “I’ll try to make it good for you.”

Viktor winks, leaning in with a salacious smirk lifted right off Chris.

“Oh,” he purrs, “I believe those are my words, Yuuuuuri.”

Yuuri’s blush spreads down his neck, and Viktor drinks in the sight with hunger gnawing at his gut.

 

* * *

 

They wash the dishes together in slightly uncomfortable silence. It’s rare that they eat together, but they usually manage it companionably. But now, in the light of their earlier discussion, they very air seems heavier. Viktor has this niggling feeling that they should talk; words crowd his throat and weigh down his tongue, but he can’t voice them.

It’s Yuuri, shockingly, who speaks first.

“You know,” he starts, eyes fixed unerringly on the plate he’s scrubbing. “We should, uh, try it first.”

“Try what?” Viktor asks, confused.

“Sex,” Yuuri answers, voice steady for all that the back of his neck is flushed red. “Before my rut hits. We should have two days, and, ah, it’s just that it would be better if we have some…experience before that.”

“With each other?” Viktor questions, clamping down hard on the exhilaration unfurling in his belly.

Yuuri nods, and Viktor ducks his head to hide his face-splitting grin.

“I’d love that,” he says once he’s got himself under control. He’s sure that the way his gaze lingers on Yuuri borders on a leer but Yuuri is still trying to coax that plate into growing eyes and looking at him so Viktor’s safe to admire him. “I have no doubts that we’ll be compatible, Yuuri.”

There’s a shiver, a sigh, and Yuuri finally turns to him, something like heat lighting up his eyes.

“No,” he murmurs. “Neither do I, Viktor.”

 

* * *

 

They do it that night.

Yuuri will be busy the next two days, working overtime and making arrangements for his extended leave. Viktor has to do the same since he’ll be helping Yuuri. It’s routine. Society has long since adapted to working around heats and ruts, what with alphas and omegas making up two-thirds of the populace.

Viktor is hardly complaining; the sooner he can get his hands on Yuuri, the better.

And when they finally stumble into Viktor’s bed, half dressed and tongues tangled, all Viktor can think is that he should have made a move a long, long time ago.

Yuuri is _exquisite_.

He tastes like dinner, sauce and meat, and it’s better on his tongue that on the dinner plate. Viktor licks into his mouth, kisses him like a man starved, and hoards each precious noise he can coax out of Yuuri like a treasure to savor later. Yuuri’s hands, having settled on his shoulder when they began, clutch hard, nails scraping skin, but don’t wander unlike Viktor who greedily maps the dips and curves of Yuuri’s torso.

“You can touch me,” Viktor murmurs against Yuuri’s mouth, sliding his hand up Yuuri’s belly to thumb at his nipple to prove his point. “As much as you want, go on.”

Yuuri sighs, eyes fluttering, and one of his hands creep up from Viktor’s shoulder, stroking along his neck before sliding into his hair, pleasantly dragging along the scalp. Viktor shivers, closing his eyes and leaning into the surprisingly tender touch.

“Your hair’s as soft as it looks,” Yuuri whispers, naked awe in his voice, and when Viktor’s eyes fly open to look at him, he finds him staring at his hand in Viktor’s hair with unbridled fondness.

Viktor _has_ to kiss him.

It escalates quickly. Yuuri’s throat is soft and vulnerable under his mouth, and when Viktor teases some teeth along that paler patch of skin where his bond mark would sit, Yuuri’s fingers tighten in Viktor’s hair, the sting of it as great a thrill as the strangled moan that leaves Yuuri’s lips. His scent is almost overwhelming this close to rut, all thick and spicy and clogging Viktor’s nose, but Viktor just breathes in, deeper and deeper until it feels like Yuuri is running through his veins.

“You smell so good,” Viktor tells him, voice hoarse, accent thick. He’s always surreptitiously enjoyed the way Yuuri’s scent would get thicker in pre-rut, but being so _close_ threatens to drive him to madness.

And soon, he’ll be even closer, locked in a room with Yuuri while his rut rages, and the thought alone makes Viktor’s cock twitch and drip, still trapped in his shorts. He grinds down, groaning when he finds Yuuri equally hard under him, hips arching up against Viktor’s.

A tug on his hair makes him rise to let Yuuri catch him in a kiss, his teeth digging into Viktor’s lip none too gently. Viktor shudders and grinds down harder, smiling smugly when Yuuri’s mouth goes slack with pleasure, perfect for Viktor to lick into.

“Clothes,” Yuuri whines, a sound that sends sheer delight coursing through Viktor. “ _Off_.”

Viktor scrambles to comply, not having the heart to tear away from Yuuri’s pleasant heat. He shoves his shorts down, settling back on his knees between legs that Yuuri obligingly spreads. Yuuri lifts his hips, shoving his sweats and underwear down, allowing Viktor to take over and pull them all the way off.

He’s helpless not to take a moment to stare at Yuuri finally naked. He has seen glimpses of him; a bare chest on lazy mornings, a thigh when shorts rode up, a hint of his shapely ass when his waistband slipped – but none of those stolen sights can even begin to compare the glory of him now.

“Fuck,” Viktor swears, every ounce of his hunger crammed into that sound.

Yuuri jerks, then laughs, a rough, guttural sound that goes straight to Viktor’s cock.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and when Viktor looks up at him, he finds Yuuri’s eyes trained below his waist. “You too. Come here.”

Viktor goes, or rather pounces, laying himself atop Yuuri and pressing down, down, _down_ as if trying to creep into Yuuri’s skin and make himself a home in his flesh. Their scents mingle, the air heavy with musk and desire, still no better than the taste of Yuuri on his tongue. Viktor kisses his way down Yuuri’s neck, onto his chest, licking and sucking on soft flesh that bruises sweetly before taking a dusky rose nipple between his teeth. Yuuri moans, deep and dark, and Viktor sucks hard, loving the way the little nub hardens against his tongue.

Yuuri encourages him with nails that rake down Viktor’s shoulders and arms, egging him on to bite and suck and mark until Yuuri’s torso is radiant with the evidence of it all.

Viktor kisses him again, lets Yuuri taste the mouth that’s been heated by his own flesh, and moans his pleasure when Yuuri sucks on his tongue as if trying to drink him deep. His hips bear down, cocks pressing together, both now bare, and the sweet shock of it makes stars spring to life under his lids. Yuuri curses, low and vehement, and meets Viktor thrust for thrust, the two of them soon moving with a rhythm that Viktor can feel in his bones.

It’s good and hot and _electric_ , but it’s not enough, and when Viktor reaches down to take their dicks in hand, Yuuri buries his teeth in Viktor’s shoulder to muffle a shout.

It’s hard to get a grip around them both, and then Yuuri’s there, hand joining Viktor’s, their fingers overlapping as they work their cocks together with climbing frenzy. It’s easy to lose himself to the pressure of Yuuri’s cock against his and the wet slide of their palms, and Viktor does, bowing over Yuuri and panting his name in a voice dripping lust.

Yuuri’s sounds are low and sweet, reined in until they’re _not_ , and he comes first, the flush of his pre-rut driving him to the edge fast and hard. Viktor knows he’ll remember this forever; the pleasure-pain tightening Yuuri’s face, the tenor of his ragged scream, the heady scent flooding his nostrils, and the electrifying heat on his hands and cock.

Viktor works Yuuri until he’s twitching and whimpering, his own hand pushing Viktor away. And then he slicks his own cock with Yuuri’s come, grinning when the sight makes Yuuri’s eyes go _wild_.

He fondles the swell of the base, his knot sensitive even when dormant, and slides it up the length of it, dipping a finger into the slit. A hand joins his, the touch more hesitant, almost explorative, and Viktor fucks his fist while Yuuri’s hands slides down to caress his balls, going rigid when his climax crests over him like a tsunami, fast and brutal and unexpected.

Viktor collapses on Yuuri, wincing when their combined mess rubs into their skin, but finds himself hard-pressed to move when Yuuri’s hands come around him in a loose embrace.

“Well,” he gasps once he can speak. “I’d say we’re very, very compatible.”

Yuuri’s laugh is faint but real, brimming with agreement.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is considerably more explicit than the last chapter.

“Are you nervous?” Viktor asks, teasing but not, skimming his hands up Yuuri’s side.

Under him, Yuuri opens his eyes and gives Viktor a shaky smile. He’s trembling and that could be the rut wrecking havoc on his control, but Viktor wants to be sure. Viktor himself is only excited, if a little disbelieving that he _finally_ gets to have Yuuri.

“No,” Yuuri breathes, reaching up to cup Viktor’s face. “Yes?”

Viktor laughs, leaning down so he’s close enough to Yuuri to drown in the thick waves of his scent. It’s heady, the way it seems to flood his body with warmth and heat and helpless, scorching need. But Yuuri’s burning with his rut and still holding back, so Viktor can follow suit and not fuck this beautiful man senseless. Not yet, at least. It’s going to happen, inevitably. It’s why they’re here in Yuuri’s bed, naked and tangled together for the first time since that experimental night.

“It’ll be fine,” Viktor tells him, voice pitched low so as to be soothing. “You can trust me.”

“I do,” Yuuri answers firmly. “It’s just – this might change things. We live together. I don’t want things to be awkward.”

Viktor privately thinks that if he managed to survive all these months without jumping Yuuri’s bones, he can survive having his thirst finally quenched. Of course, it might backfire and make him yearn all the more for Yuuri, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“They won’t be,” he assures Yuuri. “We’re both consenting adults who know what we’re doing. Don’t think of this as any different from your arrangement with your friends.”

Yuuri’s face darkens in a way that says this is nothing like that, but before Viktor can decide whether to be hurt or curious by the implications, Yuuri smiles and nods, leaning in to peck Viktor on the lips.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

“Finally,” Viktor says with feeling. “For an alpha in rut, you’re way too calm.”

“It’s only starting,” Yuuri says, laughing. “Give it some time.”

There’s a promise in his eyes and it sends a flash of need through Viktor.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he growls, reaching for the lube.

Yuuri is oddly impassive as Viktor prepares himself, eyes intent but face blank, hands absently roaming Viktor’s torso without attempting to reach back and help him out. Viktor gets the feeling that Yuuri is giving him the reins to make him feel more at ease, and he doesn’t mind per se but he does wish Yuuri would touch him. And he’s never been one to keep his wants to himself in bed so he says as much, coupling it with a half-lidded look that makes Yuuri’s eyes widen.

He’s a little firmer after that, hands sliding up Viktor’s chest, fingers circling his nipples, tentative at first and then firmer when Viktor makes encouraging noises, half of them punched out of his lungs by his own fingers working their way into him. He can hear Yuuri’s breathing, fast and heavy, and feel the thickness of his neglected cock against the curve of his ass. Viktor presses in with a second finger, wanting to rush this and get on Yuuri’s dick, but aware that he has to take his time and be careful because this isn’t the two of them on a leisurely fuck. Yuuri’s in rut, and Viktor has intimate experience with how alphas can get during one.

After all, he’s one himself.

There’s some difficulty in imagining sweet, soft-spoken Yuuri turning into a lust-crazed beast, but even if he’s tame in bed, Viktor is determined to enjoy himself.

He’s loose and wet, well-fucked with three fingers, when he finally turns his attention to Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri lets his hands fall down to Viktor’s hips, fingers digging into the skin there. Viktor likes the look in his eyes, pupils huge and dark, gleaming with something he can’t quite understand. Then he has Yuuri’s cock in his lube-slick palm, and he gets distracted, straining to look over his shoulders as he slathers the length generously and guides it to his hole.

The first hint of gentle pressure drives a gasp out of him, but he bears down, eyes shutting tight as he takes it in inch by torturous inch. He’s seen it and held it in his hands, knows the considerable length and even more impressive girth of it, but it’s another matter entirely to have it inside him, pressing its way past the constriction of his muscles to slide deeper and deeper until the whole of it buried within Viktor. He’s gasping by then, dragging in desperate lungfuls of air as he struggles to sit still and adjust to the burning heat keeping him open.

He manages to glance down at the man under him, and the sight of Yuuri with his head thrown back and lips bitten raw only makes him shudder and then cry out when that cause Yuuri’s cock to shift inside him. Maybe he should have added another finger, but there’s something appealing about the throbbing _hurt_ that’s so wholly taking over him.

He’s glad, too, that he and Yuuri compared their test results before this and decided not to use condoms because fuck, if he’s doing this, he’s getting the whole damn experience.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asks, already sounding wrecked. Satisfaction curls deep in Viktor’s gut.

“I’m okay,” he says, answering the concern implicit in his name. “Give me a bit.”

“Take your time,” Yuuri says predictably, rubbing his hands over Viktor’s hips in a gesture that might be meant as comfort or just Yuuri’s own attempt at grounding himself.

“You’re big,” Viktor can’t resist commenting, sparing a moment for a toothy grin. “And so fucking thick.”

The word drips from his tongue, low and dirty like a secret, and it’s worth the effort to see Yuuri seize up with a shiver, though Viktor loses his smirk when that makes Yuuri drive up into him, an impossible centimeter deeper. He doesn’t recognize the noise that leaves his throat, but the high, piercing need in it flares hot in his veins.

“Gonna move,” he bites out, grinning at Yuuri’s enthusiastic agreement. He reaches back and braces himself on Yuuri’s bent knees, knowing he’ll need the support. Yuuri’s cock drags along his walls when he rises, the emptiness it leaves behind the sweetest torment. Viktor digs his nails into Yuuri’s skin and muffles a scream when the head slips out, lube trickling out of his hole in its wake. He’s quick to lower himself again, whining high and desperate at the blunt pressure of the cockhead pressing into him. He keeps going, just like before, sliding inexorable down until he’s seated on Yuuri’s cock and burning from it.

Yuuri’s in no better state, soaked in sweat and flushed down to his chest, but he stays still for Viktor, as quietly considerate as always. He’s pretty, and Viktor has trouble tearing his eyes away even when he tenses his thighs and prepares to ride Yuuri in earnest.

It gets easier with each stroke, his body adjusting to Yuuri’s size, slick walls molding themselves along heated flesh. The shock of sensation never fades, and his cries join Yuuri’s in filling the room with the sounds of their shared pleasure.

His arms and legs ache in that pleasant way that comes with a nice work out, sweat slicking the skin and muscles straining underneath. Yuuri seems to enjoy the sight, eyeing Viktor with hunger swirling in those wide-blown pupils. There will be bruises on Viktor’s hips from where Yuuri is holding so tight, but Viktor can see the effort it takes for him to hold back, to keep his body flat and still while Viktor bounces on his cock. It’s impressive, a little, and Viktor rewards him by moving faster, slamming down on Yuuri with the sort of force that sends a scream spilling from his lips.

But in the end, Yuuri breaks.

“Faster,” is his demand, and even with his mind lost to the searing pleasure of their coupling, Viktor just feels incredulous because _how_ ; he can’t move any faster, not when he’s already panting with the effort of keeping up this pace.

“Viktor,” Yuuri growls, a demand this time, and Viktor only has time to snarl back before there’s a disorienting shift.

He’s _empty_ and that alone makes him cry out, but then Yuuri’s there, looming over him, grabbing Viktor by the thighs and folding him in half before shoving back into him in one, savage thrust.

Viktor screams, clawing at the sheets, more startled than anything, but Yuuri’s moving already, fucking Viktor deep and fast with barely restrained violence, and Viktor doesn’t even have the voice to scream after that, just gasps for air with unseeing eyes. He manages, blindly, to get a hand around his own cock, and it’s little comfort against Yuuri’s relentless assault, only makes him writhe and shudder with too much sensation, but he can’t stop, can only keep up the wet, brutal strokes as Yuuri fucks all sense out of his head.

He doesn’t know who comes first, if it’s the explosion of heat within that sends him spilling into his hand or if it’s his ass convulsing around Yuuri that makes him moan and come, and he doesn’t care, swept away by the sudden fiery flood.

Yuuri collapses on him, his soft cock slipping out of Viktor, and he can only wheeze at the sudden weight and grasp weakly at Yuuri.

He doesn’t have the air to breathe, but Yuuri’s mouth is _right there_ , and Viktor decides he doesn’t mind dying with a kiss.

He survives, life breathed into him by Yuuri’s lips and tongue, wet and hungry as they tangle with Viktor’s, the taste of him as unique as the scent pervading the room. They kiss and kiss, Viktor pulling back for breath only to be reeled back in by Yuuri, the eagerness always pulling a laugh out of him.

It’s all fun and games until Viktor feels the hardness poking him in the legs.

“Already?” he asks, breathless, against Yuuri’s lips. They curve up, and when Yuuri pulls back, Viktor can see the rueful smile on his lips.

“Short refractory period,” Yuuri replies in a voice that’s lower, more throaty than usual. “Good stamina too.”

That’s all the explanation he gets before Yuuri withdraws, settling between Viktor’s legs. He flips him over with an easy strength, Viktor too shocked too do anything else than let himself be arranged to Yuuri’s liking. He ends up on his stomach, head pillowed in his arms and hips raised so Yuuri can get to his ass. There are hands on him now, smearing lube over his rim, two fingers unceremoniously thrusting in. Viktor opens his mouth, but nothing comes out except a low moan that peters out as Yuuri spreads him open all over again, a third slick finger joining in. He knows Yuuri’s making sure he’s wet enough to take his cock, but it’s hard to make thoughts seem coherent when he all he can feel in the pulsing ache inside of him.

It’s an empty relief when Yuuri’s fingers leave him. Even though Viktor knows it’s coming, Yuuri’s cock sliding into him still robs his breath and blanks his thoughts.

He gasps, head turned to the side, chest burning, when Yuuri bottoms out in one, steady thrust. It hurts, in a distant, throbbing kind of way that’s soon swept aside by the maddening pleasure of Yuuri fucking him hard.

There’s a moment of amusement, which comes and goes in a flash, that quiet, sweet Yuuri can indeed be as brutal a beast as the rest of them. But thoughts are hard to hold on to when he’s being nailed to the mattress by a thick fucking cock that seems to drive deeper and deeper with each thrust. It’s impossible, he knows, but it feels like that, like he can feel Yuuri in the back of his throat and the mental image, of being held down and so wholly filled, coaxes his spent cock back to life.

Then Yuuri stops and Viktor’s whining in complaint before he can stop himself.

“Ssh, ssh,” Yuuri soothes, one hand rubbing gentle circles on Viktor’s ass. There’s the sound of fumbling, a click, and familiar wet noises. Viktor wants to see what Yuuri’s doing but he can’t in this position and he’s not sure if his arms will support him if he tries to rise. He can feel the tremors running through him, not nearly as distracting as the throbbing inside his ass.

It’s relief that pulls a sigh out of him when Yuuri presses back inside. He slides in slowly which would be kind except that it only makes Viktor feel _everything_ more acutely.

And then there’s something else brushing his rim, a faint pressure circles his hole where it’s stretched taut around Yuuri’s cock.

“Y-Yuuri?”

The finger starts to press in alongside Yuuri’s cock.

“ _Yuuri!_ ”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri murmurs, quiet and almost calm, like he’s not spreading Viktor to his limits and beyond. “You can take it.”

“I can’t,” Viktor gasps, incredulous but frozen where he is. The finger’s slick and slides in easy but it _hurts_ , every inch it takes a scorching trail that throbs in time with Viktor’s pulse. “Yuuri, what are you – why are you–”

There’s another now, unrelenting as it squirms its way alongside Yuuri’s dick, and Viktor doesn’t have the air left to protest.

His vision blurs, eyes swimming with tears, and he blinks them away, sucking in a wet breath in a fruitless attempt at grounding himself. Yuuri’s isn’t moving now that his cock and those fingers are both inside Viktor, like he’s trying to let him adjust. But Viktor can feel those helpless little movements he’s making, the way his cock shifts inside his ass.

He says nothing, just closes his eyes and breathes through it all.

He expected this. It was just easy to forget when Yuuri looked at him with those pretty doe eyes and summer-sweet smiles.

When Yuuri starts moving again, Viktor just clings to the sheets and muffles his sounds into mattress. The fingers are there, crooking and moving absently, awkwardly, like he’s trying to open Viktor _wider_ and fuck him senseless at the same time.

He never even knew he could be this loose.

And then Yuuri pulls his fingers out and there’s a split-second of aching emptiness where they were, and suddenly, that’s gone because Yuuri’s _growing_.

Viktor scrambles on to his elbows, almost collapsing back when they threaten to give away but keeps himself up even when it makes Yuuri curse and shift his angle. Viktor barely hears him, numb to everything except the hot, searing pressure spreading his hole impossibly open.

Yuuri’s knot, of course Yuuri has a knot, how could he have–

It keeps growing.

Viktor hears the high, keening sound that goes on and on, the noise full of helpless desperation, and doesn’t realize it’s coming from him until Yuuri’s knot pops, tying them together and ripping a ragged scream out of Viktor.

He hasn’t stopped screaming when Yuuri starts coming, liquid heat streaming into Viktor, more, much more than from when Yuuri came before. It fills him up, every single drop kept inside of him by Yuuri’s knot plugging his hole. Viktor hold his breath and waits for it to stop, but Yuuri just keeps coming and coming, endless like he’s not going to stop until Viktor’s drowning in his seed.

His elbows finally give away, and Viktor can only cry out weakly when the sudden fall makes Yuuri’s knot tug at his rim. But Yuuri follows him down, blanketing Viktor with his heat by draping himself across his back. They stay locked together, Viktor clenching instinctually around Yuuri’s knot. There’s a moan, Yuuri sighing his pleasure into Viktor’s neck, and Viktor shudders and pants and fights not to squirm.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathes, nuzzling his nape.

Viktor thinks he’s asking after him but doesn’t have the breath to give reassurance.

He feels trapped, pinned down and tied down on the knot that pulses hot inside him.

He’s seen Chris writhe on Viktor’s knot, heard his frenzied screams and listened to the praises that followed when they both were lucid, but he didn’t understand, not really, not until now, how it locks into you and fills you up so _much_.

It feels like an infinity later that Yuuri stops coming, but Viktor knows that it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

He knot remains, and Viktor tries not to think about how wide he’s been pried open.

Yuuri shifts then, rolling them both on to their sides, and Viktor’s too limp to help but whimpers when each minute movement makes Yuuri’s knot tug at his hole and shift inside him. Yuuri makes little shushing noises, palms flat over Viktor’s belly and mouth brushing tenderly along his shoulders.

“How, ah, how much longer before you – before it goes down, I–”

Yuuri just nuzzles him, and when Viktor turns his head, he’s caught in a kiss that he can barely react to. He should know how long it takes but his mind’s mush and all he can feel is Yuuri – Yuuri’s hands, Yuuri’s mouth, Yuuri’s _cock_ –

“Give it a while,” Yuuri says like he’s not driving Viktor insane each moment he–

“Please,” Viktor begs, not knowing what he’s asking for.

Yuuri hums pleasantly and takes that as invitation to slide his hand down to Viktor’s cock and wrap his hand around the base. It makes him jolt, a moan escaping when he ends up clenching around Yuuri again – and again when Yuuri starts stroking him. His own arousal didn’t even register when Yuuri was fucking him, but now it slams into him without mercy, and he’s writhing again, everything narrowed down to the wet roughness of Yuuri’s hand sliding along his cock, over and over until Viktor shatters with a shout. It makes him feel Yuuri’s knot all the more intensely, hot and pulsing and _huge_ as Viktor’s walls flutter weakly around it.

When he comes down, blinking white out of his eyes, he’s still tied to Yuuri.

It’s too much, has been too much from the moment Yuuri shoved those fingers in, and Viktor doesn’t know why he likes it so much.

“A little more,” Yuuri tells him, voice thick with something unreadable. “Wait just a little more, Viktor.”

Viktor does because he doesn’t have a choice and wouldn’t want one anyway.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note before we begin: Those of you who’ve read my works from the beginning or even visited my profile know that my writing skews dark. I tag sensitive content and use archive warnings when possible. But not all my works are darkfic. This is one of my gentler stories and also tagged with everything relevant to it. Assuming that, because I write a lot of darkfic, this will abruptly become dark is disingenuous as best.
> 
> If the very existence of darkfic bothers you, then I’m not the author for you.
> 
> If you’re skeptical by nature, rest assured that I’m not the kind of guy who would spring major archive warnings on you in the middle of a fic. In the mean time, try not to slander me.
> 
> That’s all. Enjoy.

Viktor rocks gently on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes and mouth parted to suck in huge gulps of air as his body is dragged along to the whims of the man buried balls-deep in him.

He doesn’t – doesn’t even remember how many times he’s been fucked. It’s just the first day, and he passed out sometime after the fourth round, coming to when Yuuri’s tongue licked into his mouth like he was asking permission for more. Viktor, because he was weak to Yuuri and drunk on pleasure, gave it all too easily. And he doesn’t regret it, not really, because Yuuri’s cock is so, so good as it wrecks him with abandon, but god, Viktor’s only human and at the moment, he feels like one big bruise.

His ass is the worst of it, the whole of it throbbing with minute twitch of his body. Yuuri’s knot prying him open doesn’t help; Viktor’s rim feels like a live wire where it’s stretched around that impossible girth, raw and aching even as it sends sweet sensation shooting through his body. He’s a mess both inside and out, belly and thighs splattered in his own come, his ass soaked with Yuuri’s seed.

And _fuck_ , Yuuri’s still coming.

Does Viktor come this much when he’s in rut? How does Chris even take it? Viktor feels almost feverish, hot all over and so damn full–

Yuuri’s knot deflates more abruptly than usual, his cock sliding out of Viktor in a gush of sticky fluid. It drenches the sheets between his legs and it says a lot that he doesn’t even bother to roll away from the mess. It takes a lot of effort to even shift his arm and look at Yuuri who seems nearly as exhausted, dropping on the relatively clean space near Viktor with a soul-deep groan.

Viktor’s not surprised when Yuuri throws an arm over him and pulls him to his side, cuddling Viktor almost aggressively. Yuuri got less and less vocal as his rut grew in intensity, but he made up for it with his body, always touching Viktor, holding him close when he wasn’t fucking him senseless. It’s nice, grounding amidst the furious sex that threatens to unravel him completely.

Now, Yuuri just pushes his nose against Viktor’s scent glands, breathing deep and deeper as f trying to draw in Viktor’s muted scent amidst the room that reeks of sex and Yuuri. Viktor tilts his neck and lets him, closing his own eyes and falling into a blissful doze. He’s vaguely aware of Yuuri’s breath also evening out, the two of them slipping into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

He wakes alone, sore and sticky.

The bathroom door is open and the mirror foggy but Yuuri’s not in there. Viktor doesn’t bother worrying about it. He probably went to get food. Yuuri originally stockpiled food in his bedroom on the assumption that he would be confined to it during his rut. But with Viktor joining him, the whole apartment was theirs to use as they wished. They agreed to keep the sex to the bedroom because no one wanted to scrub a week’s worth of pheromones and fluid from the couch and kitchen, but they did transfer the food back to the cupboards, leaving only several bottles of water in the room.

Viktor drains half of one, the cool liquid sliding pleasantly down his throat. His body remains heated and sticky, begging for a shower. Walking is hard, each step making him wince, but with the immediate exhaustion of taking a knot – taking many knots, hot hell, Yuuri has stamina – abated, the need to be clean is stronger than any amount of soreness.

He manages to drag himself under the shower, sighing happily and nearly melting against a wall when hot water sluices down his skin. A bath sounds heavenly, but he doesn’t have the energy to draw one for himself. Maybe he’ll make Yuuri do it later, after he has inevitably turned Viktor into a gibbering mess. They have nearly six days of this to get through after all.

The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

When Viktor stumbles out of the shower, Yuuri is there, sitting on the bed with two platters of food beside him. He’s dressed now, in boxers with a colorful cartoon dog pattern. It’s cute. He’s cute.

Viktor doesn’t bother with dressing, just plops down on bed and digs into the food. Yuuri does the same as if he were waiting for Viktor to join him first, and that’s sweet enough that Viktor swallows a hastily chewed piece of beef and leans in to kiss him, catching Yuuri by surprise. But then he kisses Viktor back, and he has to linger, just savoring the softness of Yuuri’s lips against his own for several precious seconds.

“Thanks,” Viktor says when he pulls back. grinning at Yuuri. It’s surreal to see Yuuri _blush_ at that when he just spent hours coolly fucking into Viktor. This man, Viktor thinks, will always be full of surprises. He’s not sure if he’s going to survive them all, but he’ll damn well try.

They finish the food fast, both of them absolutely ravenous. Viktor remembers that the last time he actually ate was before he and Yuuri shut themselves in this bedroom. Yuuri’s appetite should be all messed up by his rut, but Viktor’s stomach is less forgiving of the neglect.

Yuuri still finishes earlier than him but rather than get seconds, he just watches Viktor eat with unsettling intensity. When Viktor, bewildered, offers him a bit of cheese, Yuuri just shakes his head and continues to watch Viktor.

After they’re done, Yuuri goes to dump the plates in the sink and Viktor vanishes into the bathroom to clean himself up. Even his own fingers are too much, his ass raw and aching from Yuuri’s fingers and cock and fucking _knot_ –

There’s probably something severely strange about getting turned on by the memory of being split wide on that thing because even now, it hurts, but Viktor only half-heartedly glares at his cock and sets about finishing what he started. He doesn’t get hard but arousal thrums softly in his veins when he makes his way out of the bathroom, stretching his body with a wince.

Yuuri’s back already, standing this time, naked and with a look on his face that makes Viktor freeze like a deer caught in a lion’s jaws.

Yuuri stalks forward, and Viktor doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself edging back until his back hits the wall. Yuuri’s there the next moment, caging him in with muscular arms and lashing pheromones that seep through Viktor’s pores, taking him over mercilessly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, falling against Yuuri when he’s yanked forward into a bruising kiss. Hands slide down his back, cupping his ass and squeezing. It’s when fingers slide between the cheeks to rub at his hole that Viktor breaks away from the kiss, pushing Yuuri back by the shoulders.

Pretty eyes made deep and dark with desire blink bemusedly at him, like they can’t even begin to comprehend why Viktor would stop him.

“Not yet,” Viktor tells him, half a plea. “I can’t – but, my mouth – you can use my mouth.”

Yuuri just looks at him, some complicated emotion in his gaze, but when Viktor sinks to his knees, he doesn’t stop him. That leaves him free to contemplate the task he has set himself.

Yuuri’s flushed red, the tip already wet. And fuck, he’s big too, enough that Viktor can already feel phantom aches in his jaw and throat. And it’s surreal, when he rubs his cheek against the length and gently fingers the dormant knot at the base, to remember that he had this inside him not hours ago, every inch of it fucking him open.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathes, half-praise, half-warning, and Viktor takes the hint and wraps his lips around Yuuri’s head.

He likes doing this, likes the heat and weight of a hard cock in his mouth, and Yuuri has an exceptionally filling dick. That thought amuses him probably more that is warranted, though his lips are preoccupied with things more urgent than smiling.

Viktor takes his time, knowing better than to rush this and choke himself. Yuuri thankfully stays still as Viktor wets the length of him with tongue and suction, taking it a little deeper with each successive slide. He pulls off with a little cough when the head hits the back of his throat and distracts Yuuri with his hands while he pants for breath and swallows past the momentary discomfort. And then he returns his mouth where it belongs, snug around Yuuri, taking him _deep_.

It’s slow going, and Viktor soon finds himself just clinging to Yuuri’s hips as he drives himself forward on his cock, determined to swallow him to the root. Yuuri’s reactions, the ragged little breaths and tense, trembling thighs, are ample encouragement, especially when he’s being so good and not fucking Viktor’s mouth like he must be aching to. Viktor doesn’t think the restraint will last long, but he’s going to enjoy it while it does, and savor each pulsing inch of Yuuri’s cock.

His mouth meets the edge of Yuuri’s knot, a barely noticeable protrusion at the moment, but Viktor remembers very well how the real thing feels. He circles two fingers around it, humming happily when Yuuri moans high and sweet.

A hand descends on his head, somewhat tentative, and Viktor pulls back until only the head is inside him, sucking gently while he looks up at Yuuri. The expression on his face makes him moan around his mouthful, fire sweeping through his body to pool between his legs at the desperate desire twisting Yuuri’s face. He sucks harder, sliding the tip of his tongue under the foreskin for a heady taste. Yuuri’s fingers sink into his hair, clutching a fistful and freezing like he doesn’t know whether to shove Viktor down or pull him away.

Viktor decides for him, taking Yuuri deep again, hollowing his cheeks and sucking as best as he can until his throat is tight around Yuuri’s cock and the best he can do is breathe in the heavy musk of him. He holds that position until his lungs burn, then pulls back, gasping wetly.

His scalp stings, Yuuri’s grip growing tighter, and Viktor blinks away the tears in his eyes before repeating his motions.

It becomes surprisingly soothing to open his mouth, swallow Yuuri deep, and feel his throat flutter around the intrusion. Viktor gives himself over to it with delight, slowly, sweetly taking Yuuri apart with his lips and tongue and throat.

The end is sudden, Yuuri’s cock twitching on his tongue and then a flood of heat, barely giving Viktor the time to taste before he instinctually swallows it all.

He pulls back, blinking at the milky white string that connects his mouth to the tip of Yuuri’s cock. He licks his lips, mouth working over the lingering tang of Yuuri’s come.

“Wow,” he breathes, pressing a playful kiss to Yuuri’s cock. “That was fun.”

Yuuri doesn’t reply, and when Viktor looks up at him, he’s gratified to see him with the hand not in Viktor’s hair braced against the wall and breathing harshly. His eyes open half-way, peering down at Viktor for a few, heavy seconds before opening properly. The look in them is all heat and want, and Viktor shivers, his own cock throbbing in need.

He’s about to take care of it when Yuuri’s hands both come down to cup his face and tilt his head up. Viktor follows the motion bemusedly, gazing up at Yuuri who looks down with naked need and something else – something darker.

A thumb rubs Viktor’s lower lip, pressing none too gently before sliding inside his mouth. It’s followed by his fingers, three of them prying Viktor wide in utter silence. Viktor’s helpless to look away from Yuuri’s eyes and lets it happen, breathing deeply through his nose as Yuuri maps out his mouth with what can only be called possessiveness.

He tries to say Yuuri’s name, the sound mangled, but it gets him a reaction. The fingers slide out, leaving Viktor panting in their wake, but the reprieve doesn’t last long.

The head of Yuuri’s cock brushes his mouth, smearing come along his lips and cheek. Yuuri’s thumbs hook around Viktor’s mouth, opening him up before he can even react.

Then Yuuri’s sliding into him, half-hard and with just enough softness for Viktor take it, knot and all. He sucks on instinct, groaning at the taste, and tries to convey a question to Yuuri with just his eyes.

It goes unseen, Yuuri focused on fucking Viktor’s mouth with thrusts that grow more brutal the harder he gets until Viktor’s lips and throat feel raw and abused. He relaxes into it after a few, tense seconds, splaying his hands on Yuuri’s thighs to anchor himself. He tries to use his tongue as best as he can wile Yuuri fucks his throat, running it along the underside, tracing the prominent veins there, delighted when that makes Yuuri cry out and call Viktor’s name.

It’s all fine until Yuuri’s knot starts to grow.

Viktor doesn’t see it until Yuuri’s cries turn rough and broken and something hard bumps his lips, a little too big to slide inside. He curls his hands around it on instinct, using both and squeezing tight.

He could get his mouth around it if he tries, but his jaw aches, his throat’s sore, and a little thrill of fear runs down his spine at the thought of being stuck with Yuuri’s knot in his mouth and his cock down his throat.

He tightens his grip, moving his mouth faster along the rest of him in hopes of giving Yuuri some relief. He knows how torturous it feels to have your knot exposed like this, the memory of that one rut alone still a vivid nightmare, and he doesn’t want Yuuri to feel that, doesn’t want him to remember his time with Viktor as anything but wave after wave of pleasure.

So he works his mouth and grips him tight, and stills in shock when Yuuri starts to come.

His throat works automatically, swallowing him down even as Viktor moans helplessly at the come flooding his mouth. It’s not until the pulsing release doesn’t stop and semen starts dripping down his chin that Viktor remembers how much Yuuri comes when he’s knotting.

He pulls off before he can choke, keeping his hands on Yuuri’s knot and making soothing noises at his frustrated growl. But Yuuri just keeps coming, heat splashing on Viktor’s throat and dripping down his chest, all while he sits there frozen, gasping for breath and unable to let go of Yuuri’s cock. He distantly thinks that he should move aside or angle the cock away so that he’s not being drenched like this, but that whisper of rationality is lost in the wild, animal pleasure that shudders through him with each rope of come that lands on him.

It stops, eventually, leaving Viktor slumped on the floor, panting and feeling utterly filthy.

His cock’s so hard, it _hurts_.

But it’s Yuuri he turns his attention to, carefully keeping his hands locked around his knot as he inches forward to mouth at the base, flicking out his tongue to hesitantly trace the bulge. The sound Yuuri makes is throaty and jagged and spurs Viktor on to shift his hold and lap at the exposed flesh, sucking gently on the knot. That makes Yuuri buck his hips, taking Viktor by the hair again, less to direct and more to clutch, so Viktor sucks again, harder this time, moaning when Yuuri gives a shout that seems dragged out of his soul.

He keeps it up, hands and mouth working the knot until Yuuri’s cock softens and the bulge at the end quietly deflates. It lasted barely half as long as it does when it’s inside Viktor, but that’s expected and a blessing in this case.

Viktor finally lets Yuuri go and shifts so he’s sprawled on the floor with his back against the wall, legs spread and cock hard. He gets a hand around it and is promptly distracted by Yuuri sinking to his knees between Viktor’s legs and pulling him into a fierce kiss. He kisses back, a moan lost between their mouths, parting his lips for Yuuri’s tongue and shivering at the taste of him. His hand moves fast and hurried on his cock, no rhythm or finesse to it, just the desperate need to come.

“You taste like me,” Yuuri says, lips wet and eyes dark as they bore into Viktor. “You should always taste like me.”

His lips seal Viktor’s startled cry and he shatters with a scream muffled against Yuuri’s mouth.

Viktor hangs limply there for a few seconds, body thrumming with his release, Yuuri still kissing him like a man starving. He’s a mess, neck and torso sticky with cooling come, most of it Yuuri’s. He can’t even smell himself, just sex and semen, with the heady musk of Yuuri’s pheromones underlying it.

“Fuck,” he gasps, slumping against the wall. Yuuri hovers before him, eyeing Viktor with an expression that’s a cross between hunger and satisfaction.

“You okay?” Yuuri asks, gaze flicking back to Viktor’s face.

“I’m wrecked,” Viktor says, utterly honest. “I’m gonna die before this week’s out.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen, nervous fear filling them. Viktor thinks that joke would have gone over better if Yuuri was in the throes of rut rather than in these pockets of respite. Then, he would just fuck Viktor harder, deeper, give him something to scream about.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor says before Yuuri can panic. “In fact, I think I would enjoy it.”

Yuuri remains doubtful. His looks down to where Viktor’s cock is soft between his legs and back up, over the utter mess covering his body.

“Are you sure you can take it?” Yuuri asks, and it’s concern in his voice, Viktor knows that, but that doesn’t stop some part of him from hearing a challenge.

“I can take anything you give me,” he says, firm and sultry, making Yuuri look sharply at him. Viktor just smirks, wide and lazy. “You’re free to try and prove me wrong, Yuuri. Give me your worst.”

Yuuri says nothing, but there’s a gleam in his eyes, a flash of something that makes Viktor’s gut tighten in anticipation.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you can; I enjoy them.


End file.
